They had left the hotel in York just after eight. Moll had eaten well: porridge and fruit, toast and eggs. George had enjoyed just watching her eat. With her lazy eye and her lips smeared with jam and fruit, she had seemed like a goblin. Now they had been on the road again for over two hours and she had fallen asleep. Her head lolled against the seat belt, her small soft palms turned upward, resting on her thighs. George rolled the window down an inch and smoked a cigarette. It was his first nicotine of the day and he enjoyed the hit, leaning back against the headrest. He turned on the radio, keeping the volume down low. The Beach Boys played and George tapped the beat on the steering wheel. It was Friday and the day felt new and free, the sky a sheer cloudless blue, the roads clear of traffic. It was easy to speed in such conditions, but George made sure that he kept under the speed limit. The Derbyshire hedgerows were full of berries and the fields with cylindrical bales of hay. Moll slept right through the Peak District—they drove past a majestic sweep of bare mountain on one side and fertile lowland on the other.
What do You think about Everything She Forgot (2015)?
